


Blood Child

by Batscree



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Basically Damian wants to cause harm to a child but doesn't, Bittersweet Ending, Fanbabies, Fluff and Angst, Other, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 09:50:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18313190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batscree/pseuds/Batscree
Summary: Damian isn't handling the birth of his sister too well and finds himself trying to cope one night while in her bedroom.





	Blood Child

There he stood in the room, dark and quiet as the night outside. The only source of light came from one of the manor’s large windows as the moonlight basked the nursery in milky rays, illuminating the single crib in the middle of the room. He stood all alone in the bedroom; accept for the small figure sleeping soundly among the covers of the cot.

While she was properly dressed for bed, he was still in uniform, save for his mask, which he removed upon entering their home. Her normally bright blue eyes were closed gently in the bliss of sleep, followed by the rhythmic pattern of her chest rising and falling. Dark, curly locks of hair bounced along with the infant’s breathing and sprawled out along the frilled pillow, a true spitting image of her parents.

Green eyes narrowed down at her.

Her parents, Bruce Wayne and Selina Wayne, married for only a little over a year and were already newly parents.

Even after both had promised they wouldn’t have any more kids what with the current state of the Wayne family and crime fighting. Even though the two had sworn up and down that they had been careful and that the pregnancy was unplanned. All words and promises that meant nothing once he saw the couple happily holding their swaddled daughter in the hospital.

Natalie Mary Wayne.

Most referred to her simply as Nat for short. Rather fitting thought the youngest son, as a gnat she was, tiny, annoying and a constant disturbing presence even when not seen.

His gaze never faltered, even when he watched as Natalie shifted in her sleep and one of her hands grasped blindly at the air, presumingly from something she was dreaming about. He sneered as he took in her bed a little more.

Her crib was decorated with toys and dolls given to her by the rest of the Wayne manor. Her favorite, a white cat plush, lay just above the baby’s head, gently resting against its owner’s soft locks. The previously youngest child scoffed at the pitiful display. Why would one insignificant infant need so many things anyways? She could barely stand, let alone hold any of this junk on her own.

She was always needing their father or someone else’s help when playing with her toys. She always dropped her pacifier or her doll, prompting Bruce or their brothers to discard everything they were doing to get it and hand it back to her before she had another fit. Damian found it to be an annoyance listening to the brat cry and shriek over the littlest of things.

He recalled a recent incident where she was in the living room with one of their older brothers, playing on the mat they had specifically set up just for her. She had been playing with a block or something similar and managed to drop it when her drooling mouth was biting into it, causing it to slip from her fingers. It bounced off the floor and rolled a few inches away from her. Instead of crawling over to get it, her eyes widened in shock and face scrunched up in a warning that she was about to wail at the loss of her toy.

Damian had watched from the doorway as Tim uncharacteristically tore his undivided attention away from the papers he had been working on all week and over to the bubbling cries of his baby sister. In a matter of seconds, the boy sprung up from his seat and dashed over to the misplaced block and handed it back to the youngest before a single noise could escape the infant. He left with a single ‘Tt’ when Tim sat down and started playing along with her, papers long forgotten.

The memory faded away as a new found anger began to slowly flare up in his chest. His eyes darkened as Natalie lay unaware below him, making a few gurgles and soft coos.

He couldn’t understand why the others found her insistent drooling and snotty face ‘cute.’ Everything she did was met with constant praise and adoration and she never seemed to be scolded for anything either, not even when she screamed for no reason or threw objects at people.

His gloved hands tightened around the top bars of the crib, the intrusive thoughts making him sick to his stomach. All his anger came boiling back as he loomed over her, eyes flaring with rage and resentment. He was supposed to be the sole blood child of Batman. He was born from his father’s flesh and blood first. He was trained since birth to match up to his parent’s bloodline and become the next Robin, later Batman.

He was. 

Key word being ‘was.’

He was supposed to be the sole heir to Bruce Wayne’s name, and at a time, was. Him being Bruce’s biological son was the only thing keeping him ahead of everyone else from claiming such a title. Didn’t matter that Grayson was the first Robin. Didn’t matter that Todd was just as reckless and violent, if not more so, than himself. Didn’t matter that Drake originally was going to be the next Batman and slaves himself over the computer, solving crimes. That all didn’t matter. No one else, whether a child of Bruce’s or merely an apprentice, could match up to Damian Wayne.

He was the blood son and had the claim by blood.

Until this retched creature came along and stole all that away. Not only was she the blood daughter to Bruce, but was the blood child to Selina, Bruce’s lifelong love interest and now current wife. And just who was his mother pray tell? Some woman who his father never truly loved and of whom may have forced said intercourse with, thus leading to his conception. He wasn’t even raised by his father a majority of his childhood, and this little gnat gets to have the honor of being raised from birth by both her parents!

His piercing eyes leered down at the youngest Wayne and his pulse picked up its pace with every passing second. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this furious, this need to just scream and attack with full force this... betrayed before...

Damian’s body still remained tense and on edge, but the shaking went completely unnoticed as a new emotion flooded his mind. He was sad, no, upset, maybe threatened by the new presence of the infant? He searched his thoughts for the right word to describe just what he was experiencing in that moment and couldn’t find the right emotion.

He didn’t like the feeling this unnamed emotion gave him one bit and for the life of him, he just couldn’t figure out how to get it to stop and go away.

Wrapped up in the inner turmoil of his thoughts, he failed to realize that his eyes began to water from the unchecked control of said emotions as tears began to slide down the side’s of his eyes, down his cheeks, and onto the sleeping Natalie. Said warm tears had woken up the infant and she began to stir from her slumber.

A few soft gurgles and mutters escaped her lips and sleep dust-covered eyes slowly opened to reveal her beautiful, crystal blue eyes staring up at him. The lump got caught in his throat at the realization that he had woken her up, and with his tears no less. He quickly worked to wipe his face and eyes clear of any evidence that he had been crying before glaring back down at her.

Curiosity was quickly replaced with familiarity as Natalie recognized the emerald green eyes and scowling face of her big brother. She stretched her grubby, little hands up towards him, desperately reaching for the warmth and safety of Damian’s embrace. He had never held her before and yet she still insisted that he dare to pick her up and hold her same as the others have.

“Tt.” He gave a dismissive sneer.

The looming presence that crept its way across her covers and vulnerable form went completely unnoticed by the baby girl. Her infantile mind did not allow her to understand the burning distain that the older had towards her or the potential danger she was in, being alone with him and his stewing anger. She sleepily continued her silent cry to be held and comforted by someone she sees as family.

“I am not picking you up you little gnat.”

The insult goes over her head as she now was making soft cries and wiggled her body impatiently. This only served to piss off the boy even more as he grit his teeth.

“Such an annoyance...” He thought.

Her wails raised an octave and still the boy showed no concern to her pleas. Her voice was not loud enough to carry down the halls of the mansion, preventing anyone from being alert to her current plight. The sound only further served to agitate Damian. He tried to cover his ears the best he could to block out the horrid sound of the infant wailing. He couldn’t take the deafening noise.

The air suddenly felt denser as the atmosphere shifted. A new empty feeling swept over the room and shrouded the two blood siblings.

Without any awareness, Damian had reached into the cot, silently picked up his baby sister, and held her in one arm. The other, clutched between his fingertips, was a small dagger that he only ever used when he was in a bind during a fight. The dagger was raised in the direction of the still distressed child. 

He hated her. He HATED her.

It would be so easy to just get rid of her, here and now, while he was alone and unaware with her. Babies were so fragile at this age after all and it’s not like he hasn’t killed before. Hell, he first killed at such a tender age, so what made this any different? Violent thoughts filled with jealousy and bloodshed rushed through his mind, clouding his normally leveled head.

Just do it and get it over with. End this whole thing and just have it be over and done with. Nobody will have to know it was him. They’ll just think someone snuck late in the night to kill the new Wayne baby just like what happened all those years ago in the alleyway...

His attention snapped back to reality.

He blinked for a minute and listened. The room, it was silent again, save for the thundering of his heartbeat and gasping breathes. He looked down at his baby sister, still alive and well in his arms. Her eyes were closed as peaceful, little snores escaped her mouth.

His hand was shaking. He was shaking. Like a spell being broken, he realized that his whole body was shaking uncontrollably, causing an unintentional rocking motion that had lulled Natalie back to sleep. He had also began to cry once again in the process. Fat, salty tears cascaded down his face and chin, landing on his uniform and onto her pajamas.

He cursed in Arabic under his breath and quickly dropped the knife like it would burn his flesh if he held it any longer. It clattered to the carpeted floor of her room. He followed soon after, barely catching himself on the way down. He sat there, alone in the dark room, with only the pale light of the bedroom’s window to illuminate him and his baby sister. He leaned against her bed for support, still trembling with her lying in his lap, clutched protectively in his arms.

He didn’t know what was more unfair, the fact he was stuck with a blood sibling he never wanted, or the fact that he almost killed his baby sister over it.

**Author's Note:**

> I honesty had no idea how to end this fic omg. I just had the mental image of a jealous Damien standing over the crib of his baby sister in the dark and I just, had to write it. I didn’t mean for it to get so dark, but I swear the original intent was just to be angsty. I don't even think canonly Damian would get this far. Ugh, at least nobody got hurt and he regrets it at the end.
> 
> Also, yes, I’m aware that there is a canon BatCat daughter, Helena, but I wrote this before discovering that and I wanted to use the whole Nat/gnat nickname courtesy of Dami. IDK this doesn’t follow any specific canon, but most likely is leaning towards the comic.


End file.
